


if you let my soul out

by ThisJoyAndI



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, post 2x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisJoyAndI/pseuds/ThisJoyAndI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(it will come right back to you)<br/>Wick carries Raven home the entire eight hour trek from Mount Weather. And in the hours following, he doesn't leave her side. 'After the drills, after thinking this was how she was going to die, being harvested for her marrow when she fell from the sky and survived surgery without anaesthetic, she doesn't think she could bear anyone touching her besides Kyle.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you let my soul out

Wick carries her in his arms the entire eight hour trek home from Mount Weather.

Miller's dad, Bellamy, even Lincoln, they all approach him and offer to carry her for an hour or two, but Wick refuses – a refusal she is immensely thankful for. She's thought about demanding he set her down and let her walk, but her brace is lying in pieces somewhere back in Mount Weather and she knows her legs would give way underneath her weight the very second she tried to stand. Raven is proud, and determined to do everything by herself most of the time, but she isn't stupid. Demanding Wick let her walk would only lead to an argument, and this isn't the time nor the place for that – and she doesn't want to argue with him, not after everything they've been through in the last few days.

Not after he'd surely thought he would have to watch her die. 

Being carried is the only way she'll make it home, as degrading as it might be, and Wick is the only one she can handle carrying her right now, her throat raw from screaming out in pain and her hips still bleeding from where those doctors had dared to try and take another part of her body from her.

After the drills, after thinking this was how she was going to die, being harvested for her marrow when she fell from the sky and survived surgery without anaesthetic, she doesn't think she could bear anyone touching her besides Kyle. He promised he wouldn't leave her, and he hasn't. His arms, one currently tucked around her knees, the other around her back, bear harsh, red marks from where he'd tried to pull his hands free of his handcuffs, tried to wrench himself free to save her.

They'd both watch Fox die, both seen the way the Mountain Men simply discarded of her when her breathing finally stopped. The very same would have happened to her if Cage hadn't decided otherwise, and as pointless as it had been, Wick had tried to save her, tried to offer himself up in place of her. That means something, something she doesn't have the energy to think about right now. Still, she thinks it would have been worse to watch him die than to die herself. Too many people she cares about have died recently; she can't bear to see another.

The feeling of his arms around her, sturdy and strong in a way she never knew she needed, make her feel safe, even as the sun goes down and the sky turns black, torchlight illuminating the way back to Camp Jaha. Wick says nothing as he walks, his heartbeat steady against her ear as she dozes off and on, head curled into his chest. She's grateful for the silence, because really, what _can_ be said? What can they possibly talk about, when they'd both thought death was just around the corner? On the table, after they'd restrained her, she'd once more locked eyes with him, not knowing why – only knowing the sight of him was the last thing she ever wanted to see, if this was how she was going to die. She looked at him a nd waited for her heart to stop beating, any desire to fight having left her entirely, replaced by searing pain. 

But they had been saved, even though the cost of their lives had been  the deaths of so many others. To be completely honest, she's more distraught that Finn had died for an alliance broken seemingly so easily by Lexa, the commander willing to let their people die so hers could live.  She holds no anger towards Clarke for what she did, what she had to do, but knowing the boy who had been her only family for so very long had died for the sake of an alliance so easily broken does cause an ache in her heart.

Lexa's betrayal meant that their people (or at least, what is left of them) had been saved only because the population of Mount Weather had perished. It's not an outcome anyone expected, and it's not one anyone wanted. She can see the guilt on Clarke's face, can see the anguish lining her brow after the adrenaline of trying to save everyone wears off. Bellamy bears the same look, as does Monty, Wick's attempts to draw him into conversation failing. He and Jasper walk alone, separated by at least a few metres, a nd her heart clenches at the sight of Jasper, shoulders slumped  and tears in his eyes.

She would be so very angry about it all, if she only had the energy.

They're only kids, and they've suffered so much, even before Mount Weather captured them. She doesn't know if they can ever return to the happy, free-spirited kids they'd all been mere months ago, when their biggest worry was an army of grounders, not dying for their bone marrow. Sadly, tragically, she doesn't think they can.

Her hips ache from the drills, and Wick is careful not to place his hands there, no matter how uncomfortable holding her in this position surely must become as the hours pass. No matter how tired he is, no matter how ragged his breathing becomes, he continues to hold her tenderly, fingers barely touching her skin. His dedication is something she has to marvel at. She knows she isn't that heavy, knows her figure is slighter than most – it's no surprise that having your rations traded for moonshine by your mother could wreak  havoc on your physical development – but she does have to admire Wick for carrying her for so long (silently, of course. It wouldn't do to inflate his ego).

It's only been mere days since they slept together on the workshop bench, mere days since he told her that if they were going to do this, they were going to do it properly, and things have changed so very much. Wick didn't leave her behind, he fought to free himself to save her from the drills, and now he's carried her the entire way home, all the way into medical. And even then he hadn't left, despite the deep bags under his eyes and the need for him to see Sinclar and make sleeping arrangements for the rescued, who would need all the warmth engineering could provide while they recovered. He stays by her side the entire time Jackson examines her, clasping her hand tightly, brow furrowed in worry. 

“I'm not going anywhere,” he murmurs as Jackson bandages her wounds, Raven wincing as Jackson's fingers brush against the inflamed flesh of her hip. “I'm not leaving you.”

Once more, he's true to his word. He doesn't leave, not even when she throws up the little water she's managed to sip, Wick wiping her mouth gently and easing her back down on the mattress with care. 

She dozes off after Jackson checks her wounds a second time, aided by some Grounder herb that Lincoln slips into her water, and when she wakes up, their hands are still joined. Wick's slumped over, his head resting on the mattress beside her torso, body twisted in a way she knows he'll regret when he wakes up. Carrying her for eight hours would have exhausted him, but he'd done it anyway, without complaint or reservation. The thought makes her heart clench, and she swallows the lump in her throat away quickly. 

She wakes him up with a gentle nudge to his shoulder, almost laughing at the dazed expression that crosses his face – she stifles the urge, the pain in her hips too great for any sort of abdominal movement. A crooked finger silently beckons him to join her on the tiny mattress. They'd shared one before, and whilst she knows they are both in dire need of a shower, after their long journey home she misses the feeling of Wick's arms around her.

She supposes she needs the feeling of security seemingly only he can provide her, but she doesn't tell him that, only tells him to hurry up as he eyes her with caution. He shakes his head at her but compiles with her request, gently shifting her form to the edge of the mattress pushed flush against the wall. Wick makes sure she's comfortable, asks her so many times if she is that she has to tell him to shut the hell up, and that her bandages don't need changing before he slips in beside her, an arm behind her head and the other dangling off his side of the bed.

Between Wick's torso and the wall of the Ark in front of her, she is completely safe, utterly untouchable. For the first time in hours she doesn't hear the whirring of the drills in her ears, and she nestles against him, closing her eyes once more.   She falls asleep to the feeling of his fingers tracing gentle circles on her shoulder, his arm clutching her securely to him.

When she wakes up the next morning, his arm is still around her, the smile on his lips so wide it causes her own lips to curl upwards in return.

And she has to wonder, maybe having something definite with Wick won't be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> WICK CARRIED HER THE ENTIRE WAY HOME I AM NOT OKAY
> 
> But seriously, I'm so very glad Raven finally has someone in her life that would literally do anything for her, would die for her , because she deserves to have someone love her that much. 
> 
> And I'm super excited to see if they continue to explore the Raven-Wick dynamic in s3 - why wouldn't they?!


End file.
